


Reminder

by CaptainPassion



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bethyl smut, F/M, Lemon, Smut, bethyl au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 22:21:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4075930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainPassion/pseuds/CaptainPassion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bethyl AU/No Walkers. Bethyl Smut Week. Beth has been different since Hunter was born, granted it had only been a few months, he had missed her softness. Daryl was never an overly sexual man but when he learns his wife is feeling anything but what he thinks she is, he takes it upon himself to remind her exactly who she is to him.</p><p>-or-</p><p>Beth and Daryl are married, they have a new baby, Beth hasn't even looked his way since that baby was born for reasons and Daryl sexes her up to make her remember how much he thinks of her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reminder

**Author's Note:**

> Have you ever just written a story, finished it, and thought, "... What the fuck?" Yeah. That happened to me with this particular story. I don't know where it came from, all I know is I read a pregnancy fanfic from one fandom and all the smut possible from the bethyl fandom and then BAM: Reminder. So, anyways! Enjoy!
> 
> Ps- this is not beta-ed (?) yet. I will do it soon tho! (:

[ ](http://s1383.photobucket.com/user/jessiborton/media/babby%204_Fotor_Collage_zpsi4yyv7ad.jpg.html)

Daryl leaned against the doorframe of his son’s room, his eyes ghosting over every curve and angle of the two sitting in the rocking chair in front of him. Her golden hair was in a messy bun on top of her head, strands falling out of different places to frame her face, she had on one of his old flannels he’d _sworn_ he’d thrown away months ago as their baby slept soundly against her chest, his little fist curled tightly into the pocket next to her heart.

God, there were times- times like now- that he couldn’t quite get his feet to move. He was frozen in place; sure that if he moved even a centimeter everything would come crashing down around him, the last year and a half of his life crumbling before his eyes and he’d be back in that grocery store watching her walk away rather than towards him.

But, just like always, she’d find silent ways to show him just how real things were. Beth shifted in the rocking chair, her eyelashes fluttering softly against her cheeks as she took in a deep breath, waking from her nap. She blinked her eyes open, immediately her gaze fell on the baby in her arms, a small smile pulling at her lips.

She leaned her head down and put her nose to the crown of his head, breathing him in before kissing him so softly against his forehead he wasn’t sure she even did it. Daryl felt his heart pull inside his chest and shifted, the carpet below his feet giving him away. She glanced up, the small smile only growing wider as her eyes found his, “Hey, you.”

The smile that lifted the corners of his mouth was completely involuntary and he ducked his head, letting out a low hum. He watched as she got up out of the rocking chair and went to put their son inside his crib. The one Daryl and Merle had worked hours on in the garage, the same one where Merle had busted his thumb on and cursed so loud Beth had actually come out from inside the house to check on them.

“You been home long?” She asked as she turned, tugging on his flannel to pull it further across her, her arms pressing against her chest. He watched her and held back an inward groan. He’d be lying if he’d said he hadn’t noticed the… enhancement since she’d given birth, but he also noticed she’d stayed as far away from him as possible in the tiny house they’d lived in together.

He pushed off from the doorframe and shook his head, “Nah. Just got back,” he nodded towards the crib, “How’s things?”

She smiled softly and looked over at the baby, arms still fastened over her chest, “Good. He’s latching better.”

They fell into a small silence and the air hung heavy around them. Ever since Hunter had been born there was a shift. It was almost imperceptible to anyone else but he felt it like a chasm deep inside his chest, heavy and deep.

When the baby was first born it was normal, then, slowly, after they’d brought him home he’d noticed the slight changes. She wouldn’t wear her clothes much anymore, opting for one of his old t shirts or his flannels and, although they were never regular cuddlers, he couldn’t help but miss the way her hands used to be on his side when he woke or when her head was on his chest, hairs tickling his nose. Anymore her back was away from him, the covers tight across her shoulders.

“You hungry?” She asked, breaking the silence, as she took steps towards him, sliding sideways to pass him to go down the hall and into the living room area. He followed her in silence, watching the way her hips moved with the short terry clothe shorts she’d donned that day.

When they finally got into the living room she looked over her shoulder and raised her eyebrow, asking him again, silently. He nodded, “Yeah.”

Without a word she walked into the kitchen, right off of the living room, and went to the oven, tossing it to some temperature he didn’t care to notice. He walked further into the room and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched her.

She glanced at him a few times, her cheeks reddening, as she moved around the room, picking things up from cabinets and drawers. “What?”

He’d brought his thumb up to his mouth at some point, chewing, an old nervous habit he couldn’t seem to break. He tucked his thumb into his fist and shook his head, “Nothin.”

She smiled, a glimmer of his Beth pushing through, “Don’t nothin’ me,” She said as she pulled open the utensils drawer, “What?”

He shrugged, “Threw that shirt out a while ago.”

She looked over at him, a spatula in her hand, as she closed the drawer and glanced down at herself, “Oh.” He ducked his head slightly, amused as her cheeks reddened even more. She cleared her throat slightly, “I just really liked this one, is all.”

“’S nothin,” he said again, “Like it on you.”

Her already doe eyes widened slightly as she fumbled with the spatula in her hand. She smiled at that, a real smile, and reached her slender hand up to push back a fallen strand of hair, “Stop.”

“What? I do.” He said.

She turned away from him and shook her head, dropping off what was in her hands on the counter then turned to walk towards the fridge again. He could see that her cheeks were flushed still as she pulled out the casserole dish that was wrapped in plastic from the fridge. She didn’t look at him as she walked to the counter and started ripping off the cover, looking a little too over focused on the task.

He walked up behind her and placed his hands on either side of the counter of where she worked, her hair was in his nose and it smelled like baby powder and her shampoo. His chest pressed against her back only as they breathed, but the electric shock between them was just as palpable as anything else there.

He hadn’t been with her in months. There was a time, right before Hunter was born, when that’s all she’d ever wanted to do. He could barely get into the door without her grabbing him by the collar and pulling him into bed. Something about weakening linings or some shit.

Whatever. It worked for him.

All he wanted to do now was pull her by the hips and push that casserole aside so she could sit down on the ledge and he could eat her for dinner.

He turned his head to get closer to her, his lips dancing across the shell of her ear ad she said lowly, “Would like it better on the floor though.”

She leaned back into him, a strangled laugh rising from her throat, then bounced herself forward, “Whatever.”

Daryl frowned slightly at the response and leaned back to look at her. She was still working on the dish in front of her, trying to avoid him. He lifted his hands from the counter to her hips and tugged. She dropped her hands and turned easily, her backside pressing against the counter as he turned her to face him. He could tell his brow was furrowed heavily as he looked down at her, “Whatever what?”

She clenched her jaw, tiny and strong, and glanced past his shoulder, “Nothing.”

He let out a force of air from his nose and squeezed her hips in his hands, “Beth.”

She met his eyes and swallowed, “Daryl.”

He watched her then, gathered things from her silent story. Her hands twisted in front of her stomach, her eyes were dark and heavy, a few tiny bags lay underneath them, a small frown etched on her lips. “What’s wrong, baby?”

He knew when he used that word, when he called her that that she would break a little. Come back to him. She met his eyes again and shrugged, “I just don’t feel… good anymore.”

He rubbed her waist up and down, his head shaking slightly at her words, “What’s wrong? You been sick?”

 “No,” She sounded slightly irritated at that, her eyes rolling upwards as she let out a deep sigh, her hands untangling from her front to gesture at herself, “I don’t feel _good_ anymore.”

His eyes scanned over her, gears turning and clicking inside his head.

 _Oh_.

“Baby,” The word flew from between his lips before he could stop them, his hand moving from her waist to her chin, he cradled her there, “Oh, Beth.”

Her eyes glazed over slightly and she blinked quickly, letting out another strangled laugh as she tried to pull away slightly, “No, I’m fine. Just- this is stupid.”

He kept his grasp on her, his hand strong on her waist, curving to pull her against him. When her body met his he could have almost died. Well, not really, but having her soft curves back against his hard lines made him realize just how much he really had missed her against him.

They’d been together for so long- longer than he’d ever expected himself to ever be with anyone beside Merle- that he had almost gotten addicted to her. She was like cigarettes to him- he itched for her at the most inconvenient times, early in the morning, at work, taking a shower but since Hunter had been born he’d respected the walls she’d built around herself, hoping that’s what she wanted.

But, to finally have her back? Well… He couldn’t quite understand why he’d ever let her pull away in the first place. She was rigid at first, as she slid against him, her hands automatically going around his waist. He pulled her against him, and soon she softened, her head tucking under his chin. He leaned down and kissed her head, breathing her in and shaking his head, “You are always good Beth.”

She leaned back a little only to press her forehead against his chest and shrug, “You haven’t seen me naked, Daryl.”

He had.  Just not in a while. And god did he miss that.

“You’re crazy if you think that matters.”

He could feel her lips tugging against the fabric of his shirt and he couldn’t help but smile back. It had been so long for this too. Him just making her smile because he made her feel good.

No. Now that wouldn’t do.

He pulled back away from her and when she looked up at him he held her eyes, “I’m crazy bout you,” He said strongly, “And if I gotta remind you sometimes then I will.”

She furrowed her brow slightly but before she could get anything out he picked her up by her waist, and thank god, her legs wrapped automatically around his waist, just like they’d used to. Having her pressed against him again made his knees a little weak but he sucked it up, cradling her ass with one arm as he reached up and grabbed the back of her neck with one hand, pulling her down.

He pressed his lips hard and hungry against hers, hot and wet and passionate right from the start. At first she was almost hesitant but then she sighed against his mouth, her hands finding his shoulders and holding on. She kissed him back, harder than he’d ever remembered, opening her mouth for him. Their tongues mixed together, lips swelling and heat rushing in their veins.

He squeezed the back of her neck, pulling her down as if he could actually pull her into his skin, her hands then moving up her shoulders to his own neck, one hand scratching at him, the other tangling at the long, dark strands that laid there.

He turned with her easily in his arms, knowing the pathway of the home they’d built together better than he’d known anywhere else, he navigated them through the kitchen, living room, and down the hall to their bedroom.

She moved her lips over his, their mouths never leaving each other, only stopping for seconds to catch their breath and then moved right back to each other. She arched against him, in his arms as he carried her, her hips shifting against his making his pants even more uncomfortable and tighter than they already were.

Her heat that radiated off her could and had brought him to his knees before and he’d never wanted anything more in that moment than to feel that all over him, to have her on him. Around him. Completely and totally surrounding him in every way. His hand moved from her neck as he opened the bedroom door then shut it with his foot as he passed, bringing them both over to their bed.

The room was light and bright like she was, airy and cool with natural light soaking over both of them. He cradled her back and laid her down gently on the bed, and for the first time since the kitchen their bodies came apart.

His breathing was heavy as he looked down at her, her hair still in that messy bun, but this time her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright with big, blown pupils, and her lips were red from him. He felt the side of his lip twitch proudly. She smiled back and sat up, moving to sit on her heels, her hands reaching for him.

He took a step closer, his shins hitting the bed frame as he went to her, his hands moved to his old flannel, pushing it up and pressing his large callused hands against her skin.

She stuttered for a second as he did so. She glanced up at him and swallowed a silent conversation between the two took place that he’d only been able to ever do with her. He blinked and looked down at his hands as they pushed up, the shirt rucking up to show her white tummy with a few soft pink lines lining her sides. He looked up at her, a smile on his face as he quickly placed a kiss on her lips before tugging her shirt off of her completely and dropping to his knees. She was taller than him like this, the bed adding more height than he needed, so he tugged on her hips and she fell on her ass and scooted towards him.

Daryl ran his hands up her hips to her waist as he leaned in against her stomach and pressed staccato kisses there, his tongue darting out, and around her navel. She sucked in a breath, and shuddered out. He glanced up at her and she smiled as she carded her fingers through his hair, watching as he worshiped her even more than he had before.

And how could he not? This woman- this beautiful, awe-inspiring woman was his and she had carried his _son_ inside of her… She was a miracle and he never in his entire existence or afterword would ever want her to not feel good.

Because god, she was so good. She was _Beth_.

Flashes of when she’d first found his scars prodded into his mind, her lips pressed softly to the cross of two scars and her fingertips traced the others. He remembered how good she made him feel. He’d hoped he could do only half as good as her.

He leaned back on his heels and rubbed his hands along her ribs and up to her swollen breasts, more than the small handful he’d been used to. She ran her hands up his arms to his wrists as he tested the weight of them in his hands. He stood then, and pressed on her to get her to fall back. She did so easily, her head hitting the pillow with a smile on her face.

His lips captured hers again as he ran his thumbs across her darkened nibbles, pebbling against the calluses there. She shuddered a sigh below him, the breath hitting her lips. He smiled and moved to her neck, nuzzling and scraping teeth along the ivory column. She arched against him, the cotton of his jeans straining against the warmth of her once again. Her hips bucked once they felt him, a moan coming from her lips, “Daryl. _Oh_.”

He nodded at her, his hands moved down from her breast, her stomach, and to the waistband of the terrycloth shorts. He tugged at the band there, letting it slap against her skin and she gasped slightly and tugged at his arms, almost growling against his hair

He looked up, cocked an eyebrow and bit at her bottom lip as his hand moved to the hips of her waist and tugged, baring her completely. When the cool air hit her heated center her mouth formed a small “o” and he had never seen anything more beautiful. He leaned back from her, pulling of her shorts fully before tugging at his belt and sliding it through the loops, tossing that as well.

He leaned over her and ran his hand from her clavicle all the way down to her core, ghosting lightly over the lips and she was so hot and _wet_. “Jesus Christ, girl.”

She bit her lip and squeezed his arms, a breath laugh, “It’s _you_.”

A jolt of white heat went straight to his lower belly again and he responded by dipping his fingers further down, applying pressure to the bundle of nerves and her hips bucked off the bed, a low groan pressing past her lips. She swiveled her hips to the rhythm of his hand and his dipped down, gathering more wetness, teasing the opening there.

“God, Daryl,” She whispered fervently, her breath hot against his already scorching skin. The faster he went the faster her hips turned, the more she panted. Her hands dropped from him to the sheets of the bed, turning then and curling them around her fingers as he lifted her higher and higher.

He leaned down then, ducking his head to latch onto her breast, his teeth scrapping slightly against the bud. She shoved her tit into his face even more as he did, a sharp cry coming from her lips and then her legs began to quake, her body bowing beneath his hands.

He looked up from her nipple, his tongue still twirling and watched as she came, breaking apart for him, her mouth open and her brow furrowed as her knuckles burned white around the sheets. She had a few after spasm, a humming coming from her lips with a smile and she untangled her hands from the sheets to his hair, tugging him down to meet her lips.

She shook her head as she kissed him, a laugh breaking through. He wanted to revel in it. He wanted to catch that satisfied, sedated, happy tone in a jar and keep it locked away from only him to hear, but also he wanted everyone to hear just how good he made her feel.

Her free hand slid down both of their bodies and wrapped around his thick cock through the cotton of his jeans and he bucked against her palm, a strangled sound popping out of his throat. She squeezed again and then moved quickly, dropping her other hand down between them to join the other, unbuttoning the jeans and sliding the zipper down, lifting up the band of his underwear, and pulling him into her soft hand.

He let his head drop against her chest, slick with sweat, as she pumped him soft, her lips kissing whatever they could find.

God he loved her so much. And her softness, her tenderness. The way she was for him and with him. And he wanted to shake her for being so crazy and thinking he would ever not want this. Not want her. How could he not? She was practically made for him. Evidence in the way she fit against him in every single way.

He felt her lightly press on his chest and he rolled over for her. She got on her hands and knees, shimmying down to pull off his jeans, her ass swaying in the air, somehow making his already rock-hard cock harder. She smiled up at him as she slid her hands up his thighs, her slender fingers drafting through the hairs on his legs. He had no choice but to watch as she slid her hand up his hip over his balls and up the length of him, and down, wrapping her hand around the base of him and she loomed over, biting her lip before opening her lush, warm, wet mouth, and wrapping her lips around the head of his cock.

He groaned and refrained from bucking up into her, his hands grappling for anything, one hand finding the hem of his own shirt and the other wrapping around the base of her bun. He ground his teeth together as he watched her bob up and down, slurping and humming and making him feel like he was going to die right there, a smile on her face and all.

He couldn’t complain.

She unwrapped her lips and licked up from base to tip and he began to feel the tightening in his stomach. His eyes flew open and his hands untangled from their anchors as he sat up and reached for the top of her arms.

“You got a sirens mouth,” He growled as he pulled her up. She laughed saucily and wiggled her ass as she followed his pulling. He felt his own smile as he got her to straddle him. They were both sitting up now, their chest fully flush, he hard nipple grazing his hot skin. She moaned softly and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, leaning down to bite him softly.

He leaned into her as he wrapped an arm around the small of her back, pulling her above him just right, his other hand wrapped around his cock, aligning them. He teased her swollen lips with the head of him and she bucked, biting harder and squeezing him, “Fuck,” she yelped, “God Daryl, just…Fuck.”

He smiled. As she asked.

He pressed down hard on her hips, pushing her on hip, bottoming out the for the first time in months and his head fell back, eyes rolling up as an low, gravely moan slid from his throat.

She was so hot and tight and she made his see _stars_. And then she arched against him, panting and practically crying against him, her breath strained and high in her throat. She dropped her own head on his shoulder as she swayed, dragging him up to heaven with the slow, deliberate circle of her hips. And then she would grind up and down against him, her body moving and sliding in sweat against him.

His hands moved to her waist pushing and pulling at her, his own hips rising to meet her every movement. And she rode him so long. She hard he wasn’t sure how he was lasting. Her breath drove him insane against his neck and the sounds she was making made his stomach flip.

Her hands gripped onto him, holding him there, as if he would go anywhere else. As if there was anywhere he could go. As if he wasn’t frozen with her. As if she wasn’t everything he was.

She looked up, catching the side of his face with one hand and leaned in, closing her eyes as she pressed her forehead against him, landing at first on his cheek. He nuzzled her, moving so their foreheads met, their breaths mingled and mixed, her soft, breathy pants colliding with his low, graveling moans.

“God, Dar-ryl,” Her voice skipped as she moved above him. And the only word he could think of was her name so he just moved his hand to cradle the back of her neck as he pounded up into her.

Then they the hot coil began to form in his belly. Wild and hard and fast. He could feel her getting close, her velvet walls clenching and releasing around him, her breath only short pants now. He moved her hips for her, keeping the rhythm. His hand moved around to her front, pushing at the sharp bundle of nerves and she actually bowed on top of him, her mouth dropping in silent cries, her legs beginning to shake around his hips and then she was falling, hard around him, flooding him with heat and wet and filling every single one of his senses with _Beth_.

And soon, he followed right after her, watching her get to her finish only trigging his own. His jaw clenched hard, his teeth ground as he groaned, his hips stuttering inside of her, pumping all of himself into her, and maybe just hoping he could disappear in her. Live in her. She held on to him as he fell, her chest brushing with him, panting in his ear and kissing him and when he finally was finished he wrapped his arms hard around her and fell back against their bed, bringing her with him.

She lay on top of him, with him still inside her, catching her breath. Her hands grasped at his arms and she pressed her forehead to his chest, nuzzling her nose there. The only sounds they could hear were each other like a perfect soundtrack.

His hands rubbed up and down her back to their own accord and when they finally got back to some state of “normal” she moved off of him, and he immediately regretted the loss of her. He reached out and grabbed her, pulling her hard against his chest. Beth went to him easily and with her eyes closed, a satisfied smile on her lips.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathed with something that resembled a laugh. Not that he was sure he was able to laugh at this point. He felt like she had plucked every single bone from his body.

“Right?” She breathed.

And this time he did laugh. A low, rumbling, all encompassing laugh that was soon joined by the harmonious sound of her own laughter, her hand curling around his wrist as she vibrated against his chest. And he’d missed her so much and her she was. She was right here and he had her. He pressed against her again; not ever letting her not feel like she wasn’t good would be his life long duty. She hummed against his chest her finger tracing the tattoo above his heart, “Thank you.”

He swallowed. That was his Beth. Thanking him for something he was supposed to do. He just nodded his head and closed his eyes as he listened to the softness of her breathing, feeling the tip of her finger against his skin sending electric after currents down his spine.

After a while of silence and just each other there came a soft sound from the baby monitor that sat on their dresser. Neither of them moved right away just listened as Hunter cooed in his crib, just fine being alone. After another short while he began to fuss and Beth moved to sit up. He tried to stop her but she just smiled at him over his shoulder and shrugged, “He’s probably hungry.”

He blinked at her and nodded once as she put that old flannel back on. She began to walk out of the bedroom and when she hit the doorframe she stopped, her hand resting on the wood as she looked over her shoulder at him again, “Come get dinner when you’re ready.”

He smiled at her and nodded, “Does that include a taste of you?”

She smiled and rolled her eyes at him but didn’t deny it. He looked around the room that they shared after she’d left and took in everything like it was new again. The white comforter and the layered white curtains, the soft yellow walls and the picture Hunter had “painted” for father’s day that year.

He had once asked her to remind him that he’d gotten away from his old life and she did, every day, all day, and even when she wasn’t around. Beth Greene, well, Beth Dixon now, was so good it almost hurt his chest, and if he had to find a way to remind of her that like she reminded him, he’d find a way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for any kudos, comments, subscriptions, etc in advance! You guys make my heart swell.


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